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Happily married mommy of 1 with no plans for any additions. Loving every crazy, scary, fun, hilarious, frustrating, amazing minute of parenthood and life in general. I live in Portland, OR and have a great job that I would very much like to keep.

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***pull up a drink…you'll need it***

Love

Kids should come with disclaimers. For real. There are tons of things nobody told me before I had a kid – most of them good, some of them awful – but there should be a handbook or guide or something. Those What to Expect books fall short, IMHO, on providing details about the odd little rashes, itches, owies, and yuckies that kids get.

For example…Hand, Food, and Mouth Disease. Seriously. (And no, not to be confused with “Hoof and Mouth” Disease.) This little doozy is related to chicken pox and causes painful canker sores inside of your wee one’s mouth, on the palms of their hands, and the soles of their feet. Oh and when the ones on their hands and feet get all blistery, they pop and release pus. Dis-gusting. We narrowly avoided this one earlier this week but now I have to live in fear…waiting for the next outbreak. And I know that primarily kids under 10 get this one but I swear my throat is hurty and I’m pretty sure I have a canker sore – and my feet feel a little raw – possibly due to the many walks in the beautiful weather, wearing inappropriate shoes but that’s neither here nor there…and oh crap…I am such a friggin’ hypochondriac. Moving on…

The drooling. For. The. Friggin’. Love. I am SO OVER the DROOLING. I’ve literally taken to encouraging Pineapple to close her mouth and make a kissy noise in order to suck up some of that drool. I’m sick of wearing it and I’m sick of my house appearing to be infested by a gang of bi-pedal snails who happily trail their Kix Cereal and ketchup drool all over the place. ENOUGH ALREADY! I’ve been told, by the doctor no less, that this WILL stop and Pineapple will not be the only kid in highschool happily drooling all over her desktop…but I gotta say…I’m unconvinced at this point in time.

What is with the yeast infection butt rashes??? How on Earth does she develop a yeast infection on her BEHIND?! I simply do not get it. And it’s bright red and raw and irritated and I KNOW it’s painful…I just don’t get it. But a quick tip – if your kidlet gets this, a friend of mine who works in pediatrics told me to just get some myconizol (some monistat or lotrimin will do) and mix it with some Vaseline (you don’t want to use hiney cream because there’s alcohol in the cream that can sting). It works great, it’s cheap and I can make just as much as I need. (Disclaimer: I am NOT a doctor so take this for what it’s worth.)

Weird boogers are disgusting…and why does my kid always HAND them to me?! She sneezed the other day and walked over saying “here mama” and I reached out my hand expecting something sweet from my Pineapple only to receive a slimy brownthing that was actually rather large. I put two and two together and figured out that she had sneezed this out of her nose. It was BIG. And after dismissing the idea that it was a baby slug – OMG, I seriously thought that for a moment and was near vomiting – I realized it was a piece of bark mulch from the playground…that she had CLEARLY shoved up her nose. WHY?! Who knows why. I swear. *groan*

Speaking of orifices…what is with the…ahem….how to say this politely?…digging around? Honestly…get your hands out of your pants already! Why oh why does she do this?! I’ve had other friends tell me their little girls are the same – and some of my friends with boys have told me tales of this sort of “exploring” that make me thankful I have a girl – but seriously, some times her “explorations” just look painful. I can’t tell her not to do it – it is hers after all and I don’t want to freak her out about it or anything – but I will be so glad when this phase is over. :S

I’ve started having dreams about cleaning her diapers. In my dreams, her diaper is leaking and it’s so messy and gross and I’m trying to clean it and it just won’t get clean. This makes me think it’s time for potty training but from what I understand, that is no walk in the park either and I’m not quite prepared to have pee and other stuff (besides the DROOL and food bits) all over my floor. Not yet. But I’m getting close.

When she looks like this, she’s likely to go from happy to mad in SECONDS.

And I know she’s 2 years old and she’s going through a lot – lots of changes and development and learning and BLAH BLAH BLAH…but this attitude of hers just sucks. She can be downright mean. And not just to me – although I am the primary target – but also to her caregivers at school. And particularly, the caregiver that looks like me. And she’ll randomly decide she doesn’t want me to pick her up – she wants dad to do it – but then NO! – not dad! MOMMY! – but NO…DADDY! *Frustration, thy name is PINEAPPLE.* For example, I loaded her in the car after school the other day after she’d run to the car saying “YAY!” only to have her freak out the moment I put her in, take a swing at me (no joke), and yell “NO NO NOOOO!” All while sobbing loudly. I asked “is something pinching? Are you OK? What happened?!” and she just looked at me with venom in her eyes and screamed at the top of her lungs. I had no idea what to do. After much pleading for any additional information from her she told me she wanted “out!” I said “don’t you want to go home and see daddy and the puppy and kitty?” and she said “YES!” and I said “then you have to ride in the car” and she said “NOOOOOOO!!!!” I then calmly said “well, too bad” and walked around the car, got in the drivers’ seat, and cranked up some dance music. At which point….

….she proceeded to dance.

(So. Cute. Heart. Melty.)

She was bopping her head and when the music said “I throw my hands up in the air sometime” she actually put her tiny hands in the air…and waved them. I love this kid. She’s so friggin’ cute. I know she sounds like a pain in the butt – which she kind of is…some of the time – but OMG. She’s just my world.

I never knew fear. I never knew what it was like to have your heart live outside of your body. (I can’t remember where I read that or who said it – but it is the truest description of being a mom that I’ve ever heard.) She’s so small and fragile…and important. I worry for her well-being every second of every minute of every day…and I’m thankful for each of those moments.

I never knew that a lot of moms are at work missing their kids. I didn’t know what it meant that I would have to go to work each day and leave my child with other people. That I would miss her and wish for her and want her so much that more times than I care to admit, my keyboard has been damp. I feel bad that I never knew that about those women – and they maybe I should have cut them a little slack.

I never knew that I was resourceful. I mean, I knew I had some tricks up my sleeve, but I never realized how truly resourceful I can be when necessary. I have found that I can entertain a grumpy child with nothing more than a ponytail holder and my shoelaces…at least for a few moments. I can also change a diaper on nearly any surface and not care in the least when my kid throws up down the front of me in the store. I didn’t realize I had that in me. But I do.

I never knew DH would be such a good dad. I suspected he would be fun and sweet but I never knew he’d be tender and generous and comical at times. I guess I totally lucked out there.

I never knew how hard it would be to live so far from so much of my family once I had a child. I feel like they are missing her life…and mine. My life is not the same – it’s so different as a parent and I feel like they are missing it. I also feel more like I’m missing theirs…life is precious – too precious to be far away from people you love. It’s very, very hard.

I never knew that pushing a child in a toy car could be so exhausting. It is. So is playing with the same blocks and puzzles for hours. So is replacing all of the clothes that she just removed from the drawers. So is replacing all the pots and pans after playing in a makeshift band on the kitchen floor. And so is rocking a child who refuses to go back to sleep. It’s exhausting…but it also makes me feel like for that moment, I am REALLY alive…really present. Those activities just require your full attention – guess that means they’re worth it. 😉

I always think to myself, “Pineapple needs me.” I’m here to guide her and help her and be her mommy. I’m here to help her through her life – the good days and the bad. I’m here to nurse her when she’s sick and teach her all the things I can so she can be prepared for the world. So isn’t it funny that now I find I’ve learned more from her – and from teaching her – than I have in the last 34 years without her? So the biggest thing I never knew until I had her? I never knew I needed her.

My baby ate my brain. I used to have one. I know this because there is a large cavity located in the (as my dad so kindly refers to it) Charlie Brown-esque* area I call my head – which is intended to house brain matter but I’m afraid…is currently tenant-free.

How do I know my brain is gone, you ask? Because I cannot remember anything. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I forget major things (OH CRAP FORGOT TO SEND MAIL TO BOSS!) and I forget minor things (crud, I should’ve realized that these homemade pizzas would need cheese). And I’m tired of feeling like a dumbass at work. It’s one thing to be silly and forgetful when it’s just DH that is bearing witness but it is a whole other ball of wax to feel like an airhead in the office…especially when you work with really smart, beautiful, amazing, wonder women (it’s true) and a couple of dudes (no offense – they’re smart, too – there just aren’t that many).

So, just to air out the dirty laundry and admit some things that I’ve forgotten – or are driving me mad about my ditzy performance as of late – I submit the following:

I really did go to the store yesterday for pizza ingredients and forgot the cheese.

This follows on the footsteps of last week when I was specifically asked by DH to go to the store to get kielbasa because his friend he hadn’t seen in 15 years was coming over for dinner and mentioned it…I bought $75 worth of wine and forgot the kielbasa (note the priorities, people).

I ALMOST forgot my MIL’s bday (it’s this Sunday – CRAP!).

I DID forget my stepdad’s bday (it was a couple of months ago – Mom was very upset and I’m a terrible child – true story).

I’ve saved a bunch of emails somewhere on a drive…and can’t remember which drive.

I can’t remember my 6th year of life…at all…nothing…may as well have not happened.

I left my mail on the counter in the kitchen, my water bottle on the microwave, and my lunch in the fridge – at work – over the weekend.

Someone in the office asked me a question yesterday and I said “yes” – the proper answer was “no” – had to correct that *blush.*

I spent 5 minutes last week yelling at an empty house in my sheer frustration over my misplaced keys when I was in a rush…they were in my car’s ignition.

I didn’t brush my teeth yesterday.

I left my lunch on the counter at home yesterday – put it in the fridge when I got home…instead of throwing it away….DH ate it.

I forgot to let the dog back in the house before leaving for the office last week – and it rained all day (DON’T TELL PETA!**)

I didn’t pay daycare in time and was charged a $50 late fee….I almost didn’t tell DH. (I also forgot the cable bill…oopsies.)

So all of this makes me sound like an airhead…right? And you can see my frustration…right? Well, then we’re on the same page.

But in my defense, I remember a lot of other stuff!

For example – I just spelled defense properly without using spell check! (It counts.) And I manage to get Pineapple out of bed, cuddled, fed and dressed each morning without fail. I also manage to (most of the time) remember to keep her supplies stocked at daycare. And when I forgot that cheese last night, I DID remember some grapes for the girl and some hot sauce for the DH because I know how much they like them. I remembered that DH was in need of dress socks while at Target a couple of weeks ago – that weekend, when we attended a wedding, he said “thank goodness you got me some socks – I needed those!” I remember to read a book to Pineapple every night (OK, well ALMOST every night – I’m not a saint – sheesh). I remember to kiss her and tell her good night and I love her as I tuck her in. I always remember to tell DH I love him – every day. And my parents, sister, in-laws, friends, FAMILY – because life is chaotic and ends much too quickly.

So when you get right down to it, I remember the important stuff? I remember the things that tell the people in my life that they matter. That I love them. That tell them THEY are important – that no matter what else goes on, I’ll never forget them. So maybe that means my brain isn’t missing so much as it’s prioritizing…the important things, the important people. I may not ever win a Pulitzer and I may have to employ the CYA*** tactic more often than I’d like but I figure eventually my brain will beef itself back up (interesting side note, babies actually do absorb your brain cells while they are in utero – just sayin’) and then I’ll be a force to be reckoned with! Now, where did I put my Wonder Woman suit….

*My dad says I have a Charlie Brown head because it’s round…*sigh*…even worse, apparently Pineapple has my head shape – lovely.